Time for Giving
by dramionerox
Summary: Hermione learned that giving to your enemies can be very rewarding. Christmas oneshot DracoHermione


**Author's Note :** heeey this fic is is honor of christmas! one more week! sorry if the characters are **a little OOC**

**Disclaimer : JK Rowling owns everything, not me. She's so magically talented, don't you think?  
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Christmas. 

To some, Christmas is the celebration of being thankful for your family and friends.

To others, Christmas means presents, food, presents, and another new sweater that you will never wear in public.

To all the rest, Christmas is the time for giving.

…Even when it means giving something special to the most unexpected people.

Hermione Granger smiled, as she clutched the green shopping bag in her hand. Doing some last minute shopping, she decided that she wanted to get a few more things before meeting Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks.

The boys (both thinking that she was shopping for them) left her alone hurriedly without a second thought. They dropped tons of hints along the way to Hogsmeade (_"Hey, Harry, have you heard about that new_ _Quidditch magazine called_ 'How to Become a Better Keeper Especially against Your Enemies Volume XVI' by Darren O'Hare?_"_) on what they wanted for Christmas. Hermione pretended to be concentrating on something else, instead of wanting to hear their endless list of Christmas gifts. She had already bought Ron that gift weeks ago, because she knew that he would like it.

"Hermione! Over here," Ron called out from the corner of the room. Hermione smiled and walked towards them.

"Hey. I'll just go get some butter beer." Hermione dropped her shopping bags beside Harry and left before either one of them could speak. After exchanging curious glances, they both went back into their deep discussion of Quidditch.

"One butter beer please," Hermione said, fishing out the money from her bag.

"I'll have one too," someone said. Hermione turned to her right and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the bar table. She was surprised to find him alone; in other words, without Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson hanging around him. Determined to ignore him so that he won't ruin her good mood, she turned away and patiently waited for her drink.

"Thank you," she said, putting the money on the table. She picked up her drink and tried to go back to her table nonchalantly.

"You know, this is the last time I'm going here. It's infested with mudbloods." Draco said a little loudly to Madam Rosmerta, who scolded Draco for using such language. Hermione stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Though Hermione was over the whole mudblood name-calling thing, it still hurt. But as they always say: stick and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.

"So," Ron began as Hermione took her seat, "what'd you buy us?"

Harry nudged Ron, making Ron go "Ow! What'd you---?" Harry gave him a look, telling him to shut up.

"I mean, uh…what'd you buy?" Ron asked the last question with forced seriousness.

"Trust me, Ronald. If I bought you something, I wouldn't tell you…and I would have probably hidden it somewhere good too," Hermione added as an afterthought. Harry laughed, as Ron's ears reddened.

Draco watched from afar as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were talking, laughing, and basically having a good time. He scowled at the thought that they had someone to share the joys of Christmas with. Unlike Draco, they had people who actually cared about them.

Him?

His father doesn't exactly love him and his mother is in Paris right now doing some last minute shopping before Draco gets home for the holidays. He didn't have any real friends. They only hang out with him because of his money, obviously.

Draco took his butter beer and sipped it slowly, watching the trio across the room.

"Where are you going?" Crabbe asked Draco, who was heading towards the portrait hole.

"To the kitchens," Draco lied, who kept on walking.

"Can we come to?" Goyle asked excitedly.

"I'll think about it." Crabbe and Goyle had big excited smiles on their faces. Draco went through the portrait hole and left Crabbe and Goyle sitting there waiting for his response.

Draco wasn't going to the kitchens, if you figured that out already. He sighed contentedly as he reached the Slytherin changing room.

Though it was chilly outside, Draco didn't mind. He flew for three purposes: to take his mind off things, because it was fun, and to beat the Boy-Who-Lives-to-be-Annoying (although he never did beat him…not that he would admit that). Draco wanted to fly one last time before he went home.

If you could even call it a home.

Home is a place where you feel safe and comfortable. You can hardly call the Malfoy Manor safe and comfortable. It reminds Draco of a museum: empty, dark, and just plain creepy, as if something were to pop out behind him. But after living in that house for the past sixteen years of his life, you would get used to it.

What's worse than living in the Manor, was celebrating Christmas at the Manor. Christmas should be a happy celebration of family and friends. Sure, Draco gets a lot of presents from his family and friends, but they really didn't mean anything to him. They were always the usual: books, clothes, cards, money, etc. etc. etc.

There were no I love you's exchanged. No talk about how thankful they were for being here. No caring gestures or actions…it was all either about the latest shopping trips, how much money they make, the latest news, and many other boring junk. They would always have balls at the Malfoy Manor each year. The adults would brag, talk, brag, eat…and did I mention brag? It's one big boring brag fest.

Draco quickly changed into his Slytherin Quidditch uniform to not let the cold take over his body too long. After putting on his boots, he grabbed his broom and walked onto the pitch.

The grass was covered with clean white snow and the goals looked frosty. Draco mounted his broom, kicked hard on the ground, and took off. The cold night air hit his face harshly as Draco was getting higher and higher off the ground.

Quidditch was the only thing that Draco liked about Hogwarts. Sure, Potions and tormenting the trio were two things that Draco liked about this school too; but that was just it.

After doing a few warm-up (as if you actually call it _warm_-ups, these days) laps, Draco tried to feel for the snitch he nicked last week with his numb fingers. Surprisingly, Draco could feel nor see anything inside his empty pockets. Cursing quietly, Draco had no choice but to go back to his common room early.

As he landed down on the pitch, he noticed something different. There were fresh footsteps on the snow. When Draco came here, there was not a footstep or a speck of dirt anywhere on the snow. Taking his wand out just in case, Draco's grip on the broom tightened and his face scrunched up in anger.

"Who's there?" he yelled.

Nothing.

"Fine, if you won't tell me, then I'll find you myself," Draco said quietly, glaring around.

"_Lumos_."

He followed the footsteps with extreme caution, just in case he heard or saw something.

Whose idea was it to spy on him? Why was he here? If that person were meeting someone, then why does it look like the footsteps of one person? For every quiet step he took, a new question popped into his mind. Draco didn't like the fact that someone was on the pitch, and he didn't see him.

Then it stopped.

The footsteps stopped.

Draco looked around and saw nothing.

Someone was definitely playing with his mind. Draco sighed and kicked the snow, which didn't fall to the ground.

Draco did a double take and shook his head.

He was clearly imagining things.

Draco shrugged and was about to turn around when a package appeared right in front of him. Draco looked around him to check if there was anyone around, but found no one.

Cautiously, Draco went up towards the package with his wand held out. Draco took the package and examined it. It was a small box wrapped in gold paper and topped with a silver bow. There was a letter attached to it, and Draco decided to read it first.

_Dear Draco,_

_You might not be expecting this, especially when you find out who this small gift is from (eventually). It took me a long time figuring out whether or not I should have given this gift to you. But in the end, I (obviously) decided that you should have this. I know that you will like it, since you are the Slytherin Quidditch Seeker._

_Christmas is a time for giving. No one, especially people like you, should be left out. Though I do not like you, I don't hate you either. There are people out there who care about you, yet you do not realize it yet. I just thought that you should know that._

_Have a good Christmas._

Odd warmth spread throughout Draco as he reread the note. Draco smirked as he figured out that the handwriting must've come from a girl because it was nice and neat.

Draco began to quickly unwrap the package; he threw the trash onto the floor. He gasped as he saw a new golden snitch lying on the tissue paper. Draco lifted the snitch and closed his hand around it, feeling that victorious feeling when you've just captured the snitch, winning the game.

Draco reread the note again and again to see who ever bought him such a nice gift; but, to Draco's disappointment, it was left unsigned.

Draco pocketed the gift, turned around, and whistled all the way to the Slytherin changing rooms.

When Draco was out of sight, Hermione let out a sigh of relief and removed Harry's invisibility cloak. She had almost been caught when he kicked the snow and it hit her. But thank goodness that he had just convinced himself otherwise.

Hermione had been smiling the whole time from the moment he found her present until he pocketed it. The moment Draco finished reading the letter, Hermione wanted to show and reveal herself so badly. But then, like the letter stated, he would find out eventually.

Hermione put the invisibility cloak back on and went towards the castle. She tried all her might not to whistle like Draco just did, because maybe someone would see.

Hermione was glad that she gave him the present because the look on his face told her that it was worth it.

As they always say: it's better to give than to receive.

Because Christmas is the time for giving.

…Even when it means giving something special to the most unexpected people.

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**Author's Note : **love it? like it? loathe it? please review, but no flames because id like a happy christmas!

sorry for the grammar mistakes because i rewrote this one about two-three times..

sorry for the lack of updates..im really bad at that, arent i?

**Merry Christmas!**


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